The Ultimate Sin (Sins of the Past 2)

“I killed the man who stole my girl from me.” His eyes were vacant, the man I loved lost somewhere along the way. “Where the fuck is my dad?” He pointed both guns at the three men standing in front of him, and I pushed myself up from the floor to join him.

“I don’t know,” one man said. “He’s probably in his office.”

“What’s with all the commotion?”

Angelo angled his body to glance over his shoulder at his father—the man who deserved to die more than anyone.

“How could you?” Angelo pointed one gun at his father and the other at his men, his jaw clenched in anger. “You took Gia from me. For what? To prove a fucking point? Do you know how many people I killed to find her? And here, she was in the same fucking house as me all along. I have been sleeping upstairs the entire time. Give me one reason I shouldn’t kill you right now.”

“Because he’s your father.” Ma stepped out from the kitchen, as white as a sheet. Tears streamed from her eyes, falling down her cheeks. “Please, Angelo. Don’t do this. Your father is a bad man. You don’t have to be like him.”

“I already am like him.” Angelo’s hand shook, biting back the tears. “He made me this way, Ma.”

In all the years I had known Angelo, I’d never heard him raise his voice to his mother.

“Dad ruined all of our lives. Look what he’s been doing to you for years, Ma. Let me do it. Let me put this bastard out of his misery.” Angelo’s entire body trembled as he pointed the gun at his father, his face twisted in pain. “He deserves to die.”

“Fathers shall not be put to death for their sons, nor shall fathers be put to death for their fathers,” Ma said to Angelo, moving closer to him.

“Ma, don’t quote the Bible to me,?

? Angelo shot back. “God is punishing us for his sins. He can’t get away with this. Everything he’s done was supposed to be for us. For this family. But all he does is hurt us. He only cares about himself and his power.”

Ma stood in front of Angelo and cupped her hands over his, her face stained with tears. She peeled Angelo’s finger from the trigger and took the gun from his hands. “This isn’t how I raised you, cucciolo. You can still be a good Catholic. Your sins can be forgiven. But you have to start by forgiving your father. Like you, he was made this way. He doesn’t know any different.”

Dropping his hands at his sides, Angelo stared into his mother’s eyes. “Do you know how many people I have killed? Do you know how many people I have tortured? And I will do it again. Without even blinking an eye. Because he made me like this. He made me a killer. He made me like him. This is what he wanted. Pete, Marco, and me, we are his creation. He designed us to become cold-blooded killers.”

Don Morelli barked a few orders in Italian to the men crowded in the hallway with us. They put their guns down and walked away from us. I was still shaking, my body still weak from being held in captivity for so long.

For weeks, I’d vowed to end the life of the man who did this to me. But I couldn’t kill Angelo’s father with his mother pleading for his life. I no longer had a mother. Mrs. Morelli was the closest I had to a mother now that mine had been taken from me. Like Angelo, I couldn’t cause her more pain. We both wanted revenge, but it would have to be under different terms.

“I didn’t take her,” the Don said to Angelo. “I bought her. For you.” He moved closer with his hands out at his sides to show Angelo he didn’t have a gun.

Angelo looked at his father, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion. “Then, why were you keeping her in the basement?”

“Vince picked her up late at night. He brought her down there so he wouldn’t wake your mother. You killed one of my most loyal men for no reason. He was protecting Gia. He wasn’t going to hurt her.”

“You could have called me.” Angelo moved away from his mother and stepped toward his father. “You could have told me she was here and that you bought her. I was going out of my mind. You have no idea what I was about to do.”

“Why do you think I bought her? I can’t have you ruining the city I built over a girl.”

“She’s not a girl,” Angelo yelled. “Gia is my fiancée. She’s part of this family.”

Angelo Sr. patted his son on the shoulder. “All of this is over. I expect you to fall in line and get your act together. No more theatrics. No vendettas.”

“I want my revenge,” Angelo growled. “They took her from me to prove a point and made you pay the price.”

“This is the cost of doing business with dangerous men. You can pay me back with your loyalty. Understand?”

A silent communication was exchanged between Angelo and his father. Whatever Angelo had agreed to do as payment for my safe return was probably worse than death. My father was indebted to the Morelli’s for most of his life. One favor was never enough. Once you were in, you never got out. There was no amount of favors to adequately repay the Don for his help.

Angelo returned to me and pulled me into his strong arms. I felt safe for the first time since I was taken. He kissed my forehead, my cheeks, and my lips. Each kiss he planted on my skin made my body tingle. I missed his touch, craved his warmth.

“Our child will not be born into this, Angelo.”

He stopped kissing me, and our eyes met. “Are you?”

I nodded. “I think so.”